


The Only Moment We Are Alone

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: A Study in Brotherhood [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Dick and Damian sleep a lot in here, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Sleep, graphic descriptions of cuddling, point of view switching, there is much brotherly snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 21:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Dick Grayson likes to ward off nightmares by holding the person closest to him. Damian Wayne believes nightmares should be suffered in silence. This is how Dick managed to convince Damian that comfort is okay. Or two times Dick comforted Damian, and two times Damian returned the favor.





	1. The Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeey so this was written for the very impromptu Batfamcontent war. It started short and evolved into this. Because the story takes place between Dick as Batman and after Damian's resurrection I split it into two chapters. So DickBats is the first half, and post resurrection is the second. Enjoy!

When Grayson knocked on Damian's door and peeked inside his room, he assumed it was to call him to an impromptu patrol. The night had ended early, and Damian was close to sleep, but if there had been a breakout or major attack he was willing to forgo sleep to help.

Instead Grayson gave him a small, hesitant, smile and asked, “Would you mind if I slept in here tonight?”

It was an odd question, and one Damian did not have a ready response for. He was well aware that Grayson enjoyed the company of others, and seemed comfortable with forcing Damian to snuggle beside him longer than he believed was necessary, but did he really need a sleeping partner? Damian had never heard of such a thing. Perhaps he had felt that way when he had been a child, too young to realize the wrongness of it, he had wanted his mother after training gone wrong or a nightmare. He had not asked for her because he already knew the answer. It would have been the same as if he’d called out for her when a broken bone was being set or if he were ill, ‘Will you cry for your mother when you are grown? No, so do not cry for me now.’

Grayson _was_ an adult, he should be capable of soothing himself. Damian did not understand why he would be seeking out other’s comfort. He had told Damian many times that he could, and should, go to Grayson if he needed comforting, but Damian refused. In this, at least, he still felt his mother was right. If he could not care for himself he did not deserve to feel better.

Still, Grayson seemed sincere in his request. His tone had been hopeful, like he wished Damian would say yes, though everything else said that he was asking because this was his only choice. Damian grimaced, was he Grayson’s last resort? Was he so unloveable or so bad at returning love that Grayson had suffered alone until he couldn’t take it anymore? Or had he been so shaken by something that _even_ Damian would suffice as comfort?

“No.” Damian told him.

It did not matter what reason Grayson had come, he could not grant this request. It was better for him that he didn’t. Damian was Robin, and it was his job to make sure Grayson was the best Batman he could be. To do that he must learn that there would not always be someone to help him get through a nightmare.

Besides, Grayson had drilled into his head that he could refuse any request that either made him uncomfortable or was too taxing and this was the former. He wouldn’t be subjected to a night snuggled up against the man, getting overheated as he provided some kind of unattainable comfort. He would understand that, right?

Grayson did not argue. His face fell, the smile seeming to grown impossibly sad, before he nodded.

“That's okay. I just thought I'd ask.”

Damian’s heart constricted at the words, and for a moment he thought he had made the wrong decision. Was it not good to make Grayson push past his fear on his own? Had he made a mistake?

Before he could change his mind and call out, Grayson was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The emptiness to his room left Damian feeling wrong.

He tried to ignore the feeling and sleep, rolling over to find a comfortable position. He couldn't. For an hour he fought with himself and the feeling of wrongness he'd been left with when Grayson returned to his room. And he could not figure out why.

He had done as Grayson had asked and refused an uncomfortable request. He was in fact doing Grayson a favor. Damian would not become a crutch for the man, if he was to truly step into Father’s shoes as he was attempting to he should be able to sleep on his own. So why did he feel so terrible about it? There was no reason for him to feel guilty about sending the man to bed by himself.

Yet.

Damian grumbled and threw back his own blankets. Grayson's face had been so disappointed. He had respected Damian's wishes, even though he'd obviously wished to do otherwise and Damian could not bring himself to deny the man’s request, no matter how odd it might seem. He had given Damian so much. Surely a single night being coddled by the man was not too much to ask for.

He padded silently to his brother's room, before cracking the door open. He stood frozen as he looked into the dim room, his heart pounding with apprehension. Grayson had come to him because Damian was his only option. Pennyworth was away visiting family. Drake was off on his mad crusade to prove Father was alive, and Cain was out of reach. Thus if Grayson wanted comfort, Damian was the last choice. Something in him hurt thinking that, but he had given into his own desires once already and sent his brother away in need, it would not do to give in again. This was about Grayson, not Damian.

“Grayson?” He whispered, his voice hardly audible.

The man didn't stir from his bed, and Damian thought for a moment about turning around to return to his own room, his duty complete. But it wasn't. He had yet to decipher if Grayson was awake or not and had not gained a dismissal. Him leaving now would mean weakness on his part, a desire not to be hurt by Grayson’s words.

He inched over to the bed and stood almost a foot away, across from Grayson's obviously sleeping form. It was not a peaceful slumber, but one of scrunched features and incoherent pleas.

It was disconcerting seeing Grayson in the middle of a nightmare. Damian knew the man must have some, but all the same it made Damian uncomfortable, and he wanted to help as soon as possible. It was his job as Robin after all, to take care of Batman.

“Grayson.” Damian whispered, louder this time.

He wanted to reach out, but held back. He was no fool, he knew his own reactions to being woken from nightmares, violent and efficient. He wouldn’t risk Grayson lashing out at him, or doing something worse if Damian touched him, let alone moved to join him while unconscious.

His whisper had little effect on his brother, possibly because of the nightmare, or his voice was simply too quiet. He cleared his throat and tried again, but his voice still came out uncomfortably quiet and scratchy.

“Grayson?”

When Grayson didn’t wake again Damian swallowed, and at last reached out for his brother’s shoulder. He shook it and pulled back quickly as Grayson started awake. He jumped in his place on the bed, his eyes fluttering open as he took in a sharp breath.

“It’s Damian.” Damian said, hoping to calm the confusion on his brother’s face.

Grayson locked eyes with him and his features relaxed. “You scared me.” He said, his voice a sigh.

Damian crossed his arms, he was not embarrassed, or upset that he’d again messed things up with Grayson, it was a distancing motion.

“I apologize, it was not my intention.” He said.

Dick gave him a small smile. “That’s okay, I must have been pretty out of it.”

Damian nodded, but mostly to give himself time to come up with an answer, “I have decided to take you up on your request.” He said. “If your offer still stands.” He added, a bit uncertain.

There was that worry again, that Grayson would reject this offer. Damian knew he wasn’t the best choice, Grayson had proven that by choosing Damian last, but he was what Grayson had, and it was his job to help him. He could put his pride aside and offer what little assistance he could.

Relief was immediate on Grayson's face, and Damian knew he'd done the right thing at last. The blankets opened up and Damian did as he was bid, climbing up with momentary assistance by Grayson, to lay next to the man.

At this point he had no idea how to proceed, but Grayson seemed to know what he wanted, tugging Damian close to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. One in his hair and the other on his back. He then curled slightly around him and Damian felt surprisingly comfortable.

“Thank you.” Grayson whispered above his head.

Damian was unsure of how to respond. Was the acceptance due to desperation, or did Grayson truly seem happy to have Damian there? He wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to mess things up, but there was a pressure in his chest now that he was here.

“Damian?” Grayson asked, after a moment. “Is something wrong? Did you have a nightmare too?”

Damian shook his head, suddenly worried he was now taking away from his comfort of Grayson. What was the point of is coming if he made the man worry about him? He was here to help, not add to the man’s weight.

“It was not a nightmare, I told you, I simply decided to accept your request.” He told him.

Grayson hummed and shifted slightly, so he could look at Damian as best as he could in the dim room. “You sure? You don’t seem comfortable.”

This was not what was supposed to happen. Grayson was simply to accept his help and return to a peaceful sleep. Then in the morning their lives could move on. These questions put too much on Damian, they picked at his motivations as if Grayson were testing him for loyalty.

It angered Damian, and had he been less sleepy he would have realized that the tiredness was the reason, exhaustion and confusion. Instead he sneered, “Why would I? You know that I do not enjoy this, I am only doing it for you.”

He hadn’t meant to snap at Grayson, but he was confused. The man was an enigma to him. Damian did not understand how he could say he was stepping into Father’s shoes, how he could attempt to be Batman and yet be so weak that he needed Damian to act as a buffer against nightmares. What an inane reason.

But Damian also had a duty to Grayson. As Robin it was his job to keep Batman sane and happy and safe. His being there for Grayson now fulfilled all those things. Grayson getting a good rest was paramount. There was no reason for him not to join his brother.

There was a tiny voice inside that also wanted to help, simply for the sake of helping. Damian easily shoved that down as he remembered Grayson’s face, and the insecurity on it when he’d initially woken him.

“Damian, if you didn’t want to help you don’t have to. I didn’t push you earlier.” Grayson said, a frown on his face.

“I know you would rather have anyone else assist you with this, and I know I am not the best suited to help soothe nightmares, but as your Robin I am here, no matter how I feel.”

Grayson pulled away completely at this, moving to sit up, and pulling most of the blankets with him, leaving Damian cold with neither his brother’s body heat nor the sheets previously covering him. The cold was little compared to the fear that had settled in him. He’d said something else wrong, he could tell by the look on Grayson’s face, and by how he’d removed himself. Grayson, was if anything, a person who needed physical touch. He gave and received love, comfort, and more through it. Damian knew this, mostly because it was in opposition to how he viewed touch; fighting, dominance over an opponent, punishment, and on the rarest of occasions pride.

“Are you just here as Robin?” Grayson asked, his tone hurt.

“Is that not why you sought me out?” Damian asked, confused as he moved to mirror Grayson’s position, sitting cross legged on the bed. “I am supposed to help you, am I not? That is the job of Robin, to assist Batman, to keep him safe and alive. If you don’t sleep then how can--”

“Stop.” Grayson cut him off, “Just stop, Damian.”

There was a look on Grayson’s face that Damian could not comprehend. It was sad, but he couldn’t fathom the reason. Damian was doing what he was supposed to, he was doing everything he’d been asked of, if he’d somehow misunderstood he needed to understand why, not cause Grayson extra injury.

“Have I said something wrong?” Damian asked.

“Can I ask you something?”

The question surprised Damian and on instinct he nodded.

“Do you think that the only reason I asked to sleep beside you tonight was because you’re Robin, because it’s your job?” There was something to Grayson’s tone that warned Damian his answer would not be well received, but he could not lie. Not when he’d already said as much tonight.

“You know I am uncomfortable with things like this,” he waved at Grayson, “I fail more than I succeed when it comes to emotional matters. I am aware that there are other people more suited to help you.” Damian said, hesitant, “But seeing as none are available I assumed you came to me because it was an urgent need.”

“Would you have said yes if we weren’t Batman and Robin? If I’d asked you as a brother?” Grayson asked.

Damian did not hesitate now, he nodded. “Of course. You are family, and family takes care of each other. Mother would not deny me aid if it were important, and I will not deny you.”

Something in him constricted at the words, of course he wanted to help Grayson. They might not have known each other for long, but the man was the only semblance of family he had left in Gotham, and Damian refused to return to his mother. Did Grayson think him so cold he would have refused on that point?

“When you came in I said no out of selfishness.” Damian said, with a sudden need to explain himself, “I did not mean to offend you, Grayson, but I was both surprised and confused. Mother would have never allowed me to seek comfort after a nightmare, and to see you in the same state confused me. I made a mistake, forgive me for not seeing your needs first.”

“Damian.” Grayson said, before reaching out for his hand. “I asked you because I wanted you to comfort me.”

He frowned, “I don’t understand. I would not be my first choice.”

Grayson chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say something lacking self confidence.”

“I do know my limits, Grayson.” Damian said, slightly ruffled. He still had no answers and found himself more and more confused. “Why did you ask me?”

Grayson’s smile fell. “My nightmare.” he looked away from Damian, his grip on his hand slacking, Damian tightened the hold, not as a comfort, but as a connection.

“I don’t understand how a nightmare would make you want to see--” Damian broke off realizing what the most likely content of the nightmare was. “Oh, I was the feature of it.”

Grayson’s other hand moved to cup Damian’s cheek, and for the first time he noticed the puffiness to his brother’s eyes. It shocked him, that Grayson might have cried over him. That he’d come to Damian not because he was the last option, but because he was the first.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“It’s okay, I should have explained better.” Grayson told him, pulling both hands away to lace his fingers together, “I was shaken up from the dream, and all I wanted was to know you were alright.”

Damian blushed at this, he was unused to be worried about in this light. On patrol he understood. If he were ill yes. But to be worried about for the sake of worry? To have made an impact on Grayson that he might have a dream where Damian was injured that could be called a nightmare made him feel a strange sensation of thankfulness despite the cause.

“I apologize, next time I will not hesitate to take you at your word.” Damian said, feeling like all he’d done was apologize for misunderstanding. He would be frustrated, but he was too warmed by the truth to be upset.

“Why did you think I didn’t want to see you?” Grayson asked.

Damian’s blush deepened. “I assumed that you believed me to be…” he paused. “Unable to comfort. As I said, I’m not skilled in that area.”

Grayson smiled. “I think you do pretty well.”

“You are only saying that to make me feel better.” Damian grumbled.

His brother shook his head. “I’m not. You came back, didn’t you? You realized that there was something beyond me being needy tonight and came to help. I’d call that being comforting. It made me happy.”

Damian allowed himself a smile, and yawned. Grayson’s own yawn came a second later.

“I think it’s time to actually sleep. Will you stay?”

The offer was more than Damian could have expected, and it worked to revitalize the warmth spreading through him, he nodded.

“It is the entire reason I came.”

They layed back down, Grayson first tugging Damian close, then tucking them both in, wrapping once again around him. This time Damian curled into the embrace, latching onto Grayson’s shirt with one hand and tucking his head into his chest.

“Thank you, again, Damian.” Grayson mumbled, his voice already weighed down with sleep.

“It is no problem. Sleep well, Grayson.” Damian said, smiling into his brother’s chest.

* * *

 _This is progress_ , Dick thought as he finally convinced Damian to take a night off. _Definite progress_ , he decided as the boy sat happily beside him on the couch, some science fiction movie about aliens playing on the tv in front of them.

The movie itself wasn’t exactly progress, he’d only make that call when he could convince Damian to watch something geared towards his age, preferably of the Disney variety, but the rest of it? That was something.

They’d been Batman and Robin for a few months, and if Dick had been shocked when Damian had come to comfort him after his own nightmare a few weeks back he was surprised enough now when Damian put up half the fight he’d expected when Dick had called off patrol for the night.

The reason? Damian hadn’t been sleeping well, not for a week. Damian had no idea that Dick knew it, he didn’t know a lot of the things Dick had been doing to smooth the path for his baby brother’s comfort. But Dick knew. After the first time Damian had woken up screaming, the real world and that of his nightmare indistinguishable from one another with Damian _refusing_ to let Dick comfort him he’d been keeping an eye on the kid.

Damian wouldn’t let him help, he’d gone so far as to run off and hide the first time Dick had tried to pressure him into letting him help, but that didn’t mean Dick wasn’t going to keep an eye on him, or help where he could. He snuck in and whispered gentle words to the boy, stroked his hair, and sat with him until it was over. But only if he was still asleep.

Dick had learned that he couldn’t push with things like that. It had been a miracle for the kid to agree to help Dick with his own nightmare, it would take another for him to come to Dick with one of his.

It made Dick furious at Talia for raising a child to think he had to suffer in silence, to make him think it was a sin to need help. Dick hated that it was taking so long, hated that he couldn’t just bundle Damian up and soothe the hurt away. Damian didn’t respond to that, his language was not gentle or calming. It was fire and anger. It was working out problems through pain and the pounding of fists on flesh.

Learning a new language was difficult, especially when one was reteaching what love meant, but Dick was intent on making sure Damian understood what love really was. It was measures of progress, and at last Dick was making some if the other night and right now were anything to go by.

“Put on the next one, Grayson, I am eager to see how they might top the first film.”

Damian’s demand brought Dick out of his thoughts and he realized the credits were rolling. He smiled over at his brother, who’d inched his way closer to Dick as the first movie had gone on, and nodded.

“Last one and then we’re both heading to bed.” he said, and Damian nodded a hurried promise, his face eager to start in on the next movie.

Dick put it on and settled back against the cushions, his attention more fixed on the screen this time. It had been a while since he’d gone through this series and he remembered Tim insisting on skipping the second one when they’d gone through them a year or so back.

A weight dropped against Dick’s arm at the halfway point in the movie, and he looked down to find Damian, still watching, but blinking in that way one does when they are fighting off sleep. Dick didn’t move, too worried about scaring off his brother and jarring him away from physical contact.

It was rare Damian initiated any kind of touch beyond sparring so Dick was going to enjoy this, even if he wished he could shift a little so his arm wouldn’t start falling asleep. He shouldn’t have worried too much, because not ten minutes later Damian had fallen asleep, head turning into Dick’s arm instead of away as he seemed to scoot a bit closer to him.

Dick played with the idea of carrying him to bed, but he was afraid Damian would wake at the movement. He was a light enough sleeper most days, the constant guard another present from his time with Talia. He decided to let the movie play out and risk moving Damian after.

The film was reaching it’s climax, a scene filled with booming noise and the flash of light on the screen when Damian woke up, eyes snapping open, and his little body jerked away from Dick in one motion. He was by the end of the couch the next second, eyes going from the tv to Dick and back as he tried to take stock of his surroundings.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Damian.” Dick said, his voice low. “It was just the movie, you’re fine.”

Damian shook his head, with two sharp jerks and stood, his hands bunched at his side.

“Well?” he demanded.

Dick frowned at him. “Well what? Was there a spring in the couch or?”

A second jerky head shake preceded Damian’s measured words. “What is to be my punishment for failing in my duty? Are you going to send me home?”

He knew it looked silly, but Dick’s jaw dropped open. “Damian, what on earth are you talking about? Why would I send you home? What duty do you think you failed? Are you feeling okay?” He leaned forward, hand reaching out towards Damian’s forehead, but found it swatted away.

“I am fine. You know what duty, my job as Robin. I am to protect you, and I let my guard down. I allowed my physical needs to trump the need to watch over you when anything could have happened.”

“Damian, we’re in the loft, nothing is going to happen here. You didn’t fail at anything, you were tired, we both are. It’s been a long couple of weeks.” Dick said, he clicked off the television and the sounds of screaming aliens cut out to leave them in silence.

“Why don’t we both head to bed, and in the morning you’ll realize that this was the exhaustion talking?” he suggested.

“You are not angry?” Damian asked.

Dick shook his head. “Far from it, the point of tonight was to rest, Damian. So, let’s do that, and tomorrow we can finish the movie.”

His brother swallowed. “If that was the point, then I did not make a mistake?”

“Of course not, I told you tonight was about resting.”

Damian examined him for a moment, like he was trying to make sure Dick wasn’t about to actually tell him he was going home. “Of course, you are right. I do believe I need to get some actual sleep, goodnight, Grayson.”

With that he hurried off to his room, leaving Dick to wonder if he was embarrassed about his outburst or terrified of spending another second around him where he might be punished for falling asleep. Dick had to take in a deep breath to keep himself from punching something, and he still ended up making the remote crack as he moved it from the couch to the basket Alfred insisted they keep them in.

He’d thought he’d been making progress, but maybe they hadn’t made as much as he’d hoped.

He finished tidying their mess, straightening the cushions and pillows on the couch before moving all the dishes to the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher. He’d sent Alfred to bed hours ago, insisting he could take care of anything they did and he wasn’t about to let the man wake up to anything less than a tidy living room and kitchen.

It was a half hour or so before he was really snuggled in his bed and another before he could calm his thoughts enough to think about sleeping. It wouldn’t do Damian any good to bother him while he was so tired, or try to get him to explain why he thought that he’d failed, or why that would mean going home. He’d hoped they were beyond that at this point, but again, Dick was realizing he’d thought wrong.

A tiny voice woke him.

“Damian?” he wasn’t sure the name came out as anything but a groan, but when he opened his eyes he saw his brother standing almost across the room, hands balled into fists at his sides, and shoulders shaking.

He bolted up in the bed and Damian flinched, one foot going behind him like he was ready to dart back into his room.

“It’s okay,” Dick said, hurriedly. “It’s fine, Damian, what’s the matter?” he tried to keep his voice as gentle and inviting as possible.

If his brother had come to him in the middle of the night he must really be shaken, either that or he was still harboring thoughts that Dick would send him home. Something he really hoped Damian wasn’t doing.

Damian only shook his head and Dick sighed.

“Come on,” He told him, lifting the comforter on his bed.

“This was a mistake. I should not have woken you.” Damian said.

Dick slipped his feet out of the bed and stood, moving around Damian and to the door, which he shut gently, talking the whole while.

“I doubt it was, and since I’m already up why don’t you tell me what sent you in here?”

He moved to crouch in front of Damian so he could look at him better and the boy looked away from him.

“I needed to check on you. I had a dream, that could almost be called real, and as Robin--”

“It’s your duty to make sure I’m okay, right?” Dick smiled gently.

Damian nodded, seeming to be relieved that he understood. Dick did, but not in the way Damian probably wanted him to.

“I failed you. In my dream.” Damian whispered. “I fell asleep on duty and Batman died.”

Dick reached out and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m okay, Damian. I’m right here and fine.”

Damian leaned forward and fell against Dick, two hands tangling in his shirt.

“I fell asleep tonight, Grayson. What if we had been on patrol? My dream would have become a reality.”

Dick wrapped his arms around Damian, “You keep saying it’s Robin’s job to keep Batman safe, but I think you keep forgetting something, Damian.”

His brother pulled away from him and frowned at him. “What is that?”

Dick smiled. “It’s Batman’s job to keep Robin safe. We are a team, and we have each other’s backs. Why do you think I called off patrol tonight?”

Damian shrugged.

“Because I know you’ve had a hard time sleeping lately, and I knew you couldn’t keep up at the pace we were going. I was even exhausted by the end of the day.”

“So you think I am weak?”

Dick shook his head, “That’s the last thing I think, Damian. What I’m saying is, that in our efforts to keep each other safe, we sometimes miss details or push ourselves too hard and it’s up to the other one to step in and do something about it. Tonight that was me keeping you from going out tired. Next time it’ll probably be you keeping me safe.”

“As any partner would.” Damian agreed.

Dick nodded. “Exactly.” he yawned.

“I will leave you to your rest then, I only wanted to check up on you.” Damian said, making to step away.

Dick shook his head. “Nope, if you don’t want me spending the rest of the night worrying that you’ll have another ‘Batman died’ dream you’re going to have to stay.”

Tension Dick hadn’t even realized was in Damian’s shoulders seemed to melt away, but that was the only relaxing he seemed willing to show. “I would not want you to worry.”

With that Damian allowed him to maneuver them both towards the bed. Soon, Dick had them both in the bed, and Damian tucked against his chest faster than he’d ever imagined the ordeal to be. Damian made it easy, and Dick wondered if he framed his request right, if just maybe he could convince Damian to let himself be comforted more often.

That, was of course, what was happening now, as Damian snuggled closer to him. There was no denying the fact that Dick didn’t actually need him there, and the boy in his arms was the focus of the night’s attention.

Either way it didn’t matter. Damian was here, letting himself be soothed, and for all the times Dick had been wrong that night, he decided to take this as a win, as progress, a tiny step towards the right direction.

 


	2. When We've Known Each Other

It had been a long time since Dick had first knocked on Damian’s door, shaking from a nightmare with the need to know the boy was okay. Since then they had both come to each other for help scaring away nightmares, fear toxin, and anything else Gotham might throw at them time and again. Dick had forgotten when he’d stopped knocking and simply slipped into Damian’s room to curl around his brother.

Maybe it had been the first time he’d dreamed Damian was still dead and had rushed to simply feel the warmth of his brother beside him. Maybe it had been earlier, when he was sure Bruce was alive, but still shaken over the chip Talia had put in Damian’s spine, a mantra of ‘my fault, my fault’ flooding Dick’s head until he had his brother pressed up against his chest, his calm breathing enough to lull Dick to sleep. 

Dick had a feeling it was neither of those. That it was a moment when everything had rushed over him, and the world seemed overwhelming, nothing small enough to handle, that he’d fled to his brother’s side and pulled the boy close, as a concrete reminder that some things still stood. That there was still good in the world. 

Tonight he felt much the same way. There was no one thing to point two as he slipped in his brother’s window and found the boy sound asleep in his bed, with Alfred curled up into his back. Titus lifted his head from where he was sleeping on his own bed and yawned seeing Dick. 

His head followed him as Dick shut the window and tiptoed over to Damian, gently extracting the cat from his place. Alfred didn’t yowl or scratch, but only gave him a look of disdain before hopping from his arms and strutting Titus’s side. 

Dick would have smiled, but even the glare from the cat, and the disinterest from the dog felt like jabs at him. He knew they weren’t, but tonight was one of those nights. All he wanted was his brother, the warm surety that he was there, that there was someone who’d always love him unconditionally. 

He kicked off his shoes, and climbed into the bed slowly so he wouldn’t wake Damian. He didn’t need words of comfort, just the boy, and everything that came with him. There was a tightness in his chest, and he knew if he kept going, if he didn’t take this time to try to ease it he’d break. And it wouldn’t be good, or pretty, or anything helpful. 

It wasn’t one thing. It was never one thing. He thought as he curled around Damian, and as Damian instinctively curled closer to him. 

There was a time Damian wouldn’t have done that. Where he’d wake at the slightest touch, where he’d be fighting before his eyes were even open. He’d grown so much, and come so far to let this happen. 

It usually helped. Seeing Damian like this, feeling his breath gently brushed across Dick’s chest. But tonight it didn’t help. The tightness didn’t go away, and Dick curled closer. He hated it. He didn’t know what was even wrong. 

So much. So many little things that just picked away at him. 

It wasn’t that everything had been bad. Wally had come by for a visit, and they’d had a great time. Laughing like they were kids again. On patrol Tim had allowed Dick to pull some of his frustrations from him, and he’d seen the boy’s shoulders ease some. Babs was doing great, and Dick couldn’t help but be proud of her, how far she’d come, and everything she’d accomplished. 

But he still hurt. A deep resounding hurt that he couldn’t name. A feeling that was slowly eating him from the inside, one he couldn’t keep behind a smile for much longer. So he’d come here. To the boy he could always look at and  _ know _ he’d done something right with. 

Damian was a beacon of hope, a symbol of change. He was Dick’s greatest accomplishment and the boy he loved most in the world. And it always felt right to be with him. 

Even as the pressure in his chest crawled up his throat and spilled from his eyes onto the boy’s hair. Even as nothing else was right, and the world hurt, Damian was there.

So many little things. 

The way the woman in front of him at the store had ranted about young people these days. The scoff he’d received from the boy no older than twelve as Dick had tried to pull him from a bad decision. The fight Bruce and Alfred had four days ago that still rocked Dick to his core (any fight between those two always shook him. They were his steady ground, and to fight? Well that was like watching loving parents fighting). How he’d tripped over his phone charger and snapped the cord out of the socket. 

Damian mumbled from beneath him and Dick realized his grip around the boy was too tight. He let his arms loosen and pulled his face from where he’d buried it in Damian’s hair, instead carding fingers through it. 

He wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Not with the way his mind was racing. Not with each tick of the clock bringing back another failure to mind, another little thing to pick around the failure. 

Sometimes when he closed his eyes he still saw his parents falling. 

When had that become one of the little things digging at him? Had his parents faded so much their deaths were considered little? Or had Dick simply been through so much everything was a little thing now. 

He wished,  _ wished _ , he could go back and save them. Everyday it was an ache, a hole, a loss. But, and he hated himself for it sometimes, he also wanted things to stay the same. He didn’t want to trade the family he had now for them. Bruce and Jason. Tim and Cassandra. Barbara and Stephanie. Damian. His family that was broken and pieced together by a soul more broken than the rest of them, by people who needed and loved each other. 

Was it selfish to want that and his parents? To want nothing to change and everything? 

He teased a tangle out of his brother’s curls and sighed. There was no going back and no changing things. Not for him at least. Besides, what would become of Damian if he got his wish? Or Jason and Tim or any of the others? Especially Bruce. Bruce had needed him so much in the beginning, and so many times after. 

And then, like the inevitable wave it was, came the feeling of embarrassment that liked to hit him at night when he thought of Bruce. The burning that raced up his cheeks when his thoughts shifted from the good times to the bad. He couldn’t stop the memories of their fights. The pain he’d inflicted on the man who’d taken him in, who’d loved him beyond anything, who’d been his father when his was gone. 

Why didn’t he hate him? Dick hated himself. Sometimes he hated himself more than anything. More than anyone. Why had Bruce pulled him back in time and again only for Dick to say something painful? To cut with words and bruise with fists? 

How had they returned to Father and Son? 

Sometimes, late at night Dick wondered if Bruce really loved him. He knew he did, he  _ knew  _ it like he knew his own love for Damian. But the night, and sleep deprivation would whisper lies that he was more susceptible to. Lies that told him that no one loved him. That no one even cared. That the smile on his face and everything, everything that he’d poured into his friends and family was for naught. That their own words were lies, that--

Damian mumbled against him, hand gripping at his shirt suddenly. Dick’s hand had stopped and his other arm had gone rigid around the boy. Dick let out another sob, louder than he’d intended. 

His brother didn’t wake, not fully, but he did snuggle closer and murmured, “‘s okay, Grayson.” the words little more than a breath. But they were grounding, enough to put him back on firm ground instead of drowning in his doubts. 

This was why he’d sought out his little brother. 

Damian, even unconscious, always seemed to pull him back. He was, and would always be, Dick’s Robin. The one that could keep him from going over the edge, no matter what edge it was. It didn’t fix everything, or the churning emotions still raging inside Dick, pushing to escape, but it held him in place. 

“Thank you.” He breathed, letting the words release a little of the tension still pressing against his chest. 

His brother shifted against him with a groan, his eyes slitting open to blink confused at him. 

“Why’re you awake?” Damian asked, shifting to scoot a little further away from him so he could look up at Dick. 

Dick tangled his fingers in Damian’s hair and smiled. “It’s one of those nights.” he said.

His brother nodded, and yawned, “It’ll be okay.” 

Dick let himself smile for the first time that night. “You just told me that.” 

“It is just as true the second time.” Damian said, yawning, “Do you need to talk about it?”

There was a part of Dick that wanted to spill everything out for Damian. All the little bothers that had picked at him through the week. All the big issues that Dick was trying not to think about. To tell him about the way the little boy of twelve had reminded Dick of Damian himself and how his heart had broken over the fact that he couldn’t save everyone. 

To tell him that, even now as he contemplated all those things he still couldn’t shake the image of his brother dead in his arms. Dead because of Dick. Because he was so brave and kind and good and the world seemed to want to try it’s hardest to steal that from him. 

He didn’t say any of those things, instead he shook his head and tugged Damian back against his chest. 

“I just don’t want to be alone.” He told him. 

Damian’s hand went to clutch at his chest, and he pressed himself closer, the movement enough to tell Dick that he understood, and he was here, he wasn’t leaving, and he’d hold him as tightly as he could if that would help. 

Eventually Damian fell back asleep, leaving Dick with his thoughts again. They were quieter, like the few words shared between he and Damian had worked to weigh them down and settle them in his mind. They weren’t gone, but manageable, and not as tempted to fly to Dick’s attention and drag him back. 

He pressed a kiss into Damian’s hair and let his own eyes start to shut, his breathing start to match with Damian’s, and willed sleep to come a little faster. There might be a million little things trying to pick him apart, but he could trust his little boy to hold him together. 

~

Damian woke up warmer than he’d expected to be. It did not take him long to figure out the source of the extra heat, a slight shift told him Grayson was with him,wrapped around him as if he were willing his whole being to encompass Damian’s form.

Damian might be warm, but the arms around him were shaking. By the lack of light in the room he was fairly certain Grayson had arrived shortly after Damian himself had fallen asleep, probably right after his brother’s patrol had ended. He shifted as much as he could without jarring Grayson to to point of waking and used the limited light in the room to examine his face. Usual happy features were screwed up in something like fear and sadness.

There was no way Damian was going to wake him, but he needed to keep the man from catching a cold. Somehow, in his attempts at finding Damian in the night, he’d lost or forgotten the blankets on the bed, which meant that while Damian was warmly encompassed in Grayson’s arms, his brother had little to keep that that wasn’t wrapped around Damian warm. 

He wiggled an arm free, tugging a sheet that was pressed down by Grayson, up and over his brother's shoulders, and under his own chin. Then he made sure a pillow was snuggled beneath Grayson's head, and tucked himself back into the man’s chest.

Grayson was still shivering, and muttering, something broken and sad. His parents names spilled from his lips followed by Father’s. Damian pressed closer, wrapping his arms around Grayson’s middle in an attempt to soothe him. 

“It is okay, Grayson, it will be fine.” He hoped the words would do some good.

While he’d grown comfortable with Grayson’s desire for touch, it was still rare that Damian was the comforter, and then it was usually Grayson comforting himself in the fact that Damian had not managed to injure himself on patrol. 

Usually that included him being coddled against his will or being forced into a movie marathon beside his brother. If it wasn’t that, it was almost always Damian needing the coddling, or rather Grayson assuming Damian needing comfort. Those situations often ended up the same way, though Damian wouldn’t complain too much over the attention. Long ago he’d figured out that was simply the easiest way for Grayson to show he cared. 

This was the first time in a very long time Damian had woken to find Grayson wrapped around him. Beyond the assumption that patrol had gone wrong, Damian had no idea what was bothering him. He didn’t need to know, but he’d like to, still it wasn’t worth waking the man. 

He attempted soothing words in a hushed tone, repeating back everything he’d heard over the years. Promises, reminders, gentle remembrances of better times, through it all Grayson still shook, and his mumbled pleading drifted in and out. 

Damian switched tactics. He did not have Grayson’s singing voice, but Mother had made sure his was passable. He sung softly, songs of his childhood, the few he remembered his nannies singing over him as he drifted off to sleep. Gentle, soothing, tones that should have helped, only they didn’t seem to be working. 

He was wondering if he should wake Grayson, but he knew his brother hadn’t been sleeping, and any that he’d gotten was fretful and short. Damian had been in much the same boat until Father had pulled him from the case and set him with Cain on a different assignment. He had not attempted to hide his displeasure with the reassignment, and Father had not budged. 

Now he felt even more guilt. Even though they had wrapped up the case the previous night, Grayson had jumped back into work on something else. Damian should have forced him to take a break, it might have worked to prevent this very situation from happening. He had enough rest to make a decision like that, Grayson had not. 

“That’s a nice song.” Grayson murmured, making Damian jump. 

It was Grayson’s hold on him, that kept him from falling from the bed. He squirmed against the suddenly too tight pressure and Grayson let up, but didn’t release him completely. 

“You should be sleeping, I did not mean to wake you.” Damian said. 

“It’s okay, it wasn’t a very good sleep anyway, my mind won’t stop racing.” Grayson sighed, moving to rest his chin on the top of Damian’s head. “You’re song was much nicer, what was it about?”

“It is a lullaby one of my nursemaids used to sing to me.” 

“Yeah? What’s it about?”

Damian hummed. “It speaks of resting while it is dark, of fathers returning with gifts, and of treasuring the love we have.” 

“What’s was the last line you sung?” Grayson asked, there was sleep entering his voice again, and Damian was hopeful that this conversation, above everything else, would be what soothed the worry in his brother. 

“It translates roughly to ‘those who do not love you do not know what they are missing’.” 

He felt Grayson smile against his hair, and his brother pulled him a little closer. “Hmm, just like you.” 

Damian shook his head, his hair swishing against Grayson’s shirt. “Don’t be an idiot. It was for you.” 

“I rest my case.” Grayson said, with a yawn. 

Damian rolled his eyes, knowing that his brother would not see it. Even seeking comfort he rarely hesitated to pour affection on his family. 

“Go back to sleep.” 

“Mkay.” It was another yawn, “You’re getting good at this, you know.” 

“Hmm?” Damian asked, his own eyes heavy. 

Grayson seemed calmer, and that in turn had already helped ease the anxiety in Damian. If his brother was happy then he had no more reason to worry over him and could fall back asleep.

“Comforting.” 

“Tt, it was inevitable with a mentor like you.” 

Grayson chuckled, the laugh ruffling Damian’s hair slightly. “Night, Lil D.” 

“Goodnight, Grayson.” 


End file.
